


A Conversation at Midnight.

by Fishyz9



Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 13:32:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishyz9/pseuds/Fishyz9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an emotionally exhausting day for them both (set after Sami is arrested for murder after the video is found) Will and Sonny turn in for the night, and attempt to lift each other’s spirits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Conversation at Midnight.

** A Conversation at Midnight.  **

                                           

We move around each other quietly, undressing and getting ready for bed. Ari is down for the count, and Gabi―with a gentle squeeze to my shoulder―quietly ordered me to leave our little girl to her tonight. I think she sensed how shell-shocked I was after what went down today, but more than that, I think she sensed how very _not_ okay Sonny is.

He blames himself, and even though I tell him to stop it, that he’s not responsible, my words go straight through him. He nods his head as if he understands, but his eyes don’t lie: he’s miserable.

“Is Ari down?” He murmurs, pulling his belt loose.

“Yeah, Gabi said she’d take her for the night.”

Sonny swallows, nods his head. “That’s nice of her; you’ve had a rough day.”

“We both have, Sonny.”

He doesn’t answer. I look at his back, at the slumped frame of his shoulders, and I ache to take away every bad feeling coursing through his good heart. I climb into bed but I sit up against the headboard, waiting for him. It’s become my bedtime habit: wait for Sonny, cuddle Sonny, go to sleep with Sonny. “I don’t know about you, but I could sleep for a thousand years.” I say softly for no other reason than to fill this silence.

He doesn’t answer, and even with the lamp off I can see the agitation on his face as he pulls at the strap of his watch. The damn thing comes loose and thumps against the carpet, but instead of picking it straight up, something inside of him collapses and he slowly sits on the edge of the bed, defeated.

“Okay, come here.” I say, holding my arm out. “Come right here.”

He glances in my general direction, his shoulder dipping as he scoops up the watch and places it on the night stand. He pulls back the covers and slides in, right into the crook of my arm.

“Will, I’m―”

“Don’t you dare,” I choke out, almost laughing. “How do I make you understand that you never have to apologize to me?”

His hand plucks at the neck of the vest I’m wearing. “But if I hadn’t―”

“Hey now,” I murmur gently when I hear it: the threat of tears in his voice. “It’s done. It was an accident and there’s no changing it. All we do is move on, that’s it.”

“I don’t know how you can be so understanding.”

“I’m just awesome that way.”

“Don’t make jokes” he whispers.

I sigh, closing my arm around him and just breathing in the scent of his hair (I’m creepy like that). “Alright, fine. If it was anyone else? Yes, I’d be a little mad for a little while, but then I’d be over it because it wasn’t intentional. Now you? You get instant forgiveness. In fact it’s not even a thing ―like, zero forgiveness required.”

“I think you should be mad.”

“Well, do you know what that’s called?”

“What?”

“That’s called tough luck.”

He pokes me in the side, and I feel a rush of relief that he’s not so guilt-ridden that he can’t be playful. “Ouch.”

“I don’t think I’d feel so crappy if you’d just get a _little_ angry with me.”

I squeeze him, and murmur into his hair. “You’re too cute to get angry at.”

“Stop being nice.”

“Stop being cute.” I counter.

He pulls back a little, putting an inch of space between us (even that is too far for my liking), and levels me with those goddamn eyes. Whatever he asks for next he’ll get. 

“Get mad at me, please.”

I press my lips together in annoyance, and judging by the small, sad smile he gives me, he knows he’s won. I look around for inspiration, and then eventually pull his pillow out from beneath his shoulder and throw it across the room.

“Gosh darn it; I am so angry right now. I could just…. _grrrr_.”

He stares at me. “That was pathetic.”

“Actually, I think you’ll find that I was terrifying.”

“No, no you really weren’t.”

I pout. “But I threw a pillow.”

He sighs and pushes into my space, forcing me onto my back and laying his head on my chest. “You’re so wonderful.”

My hand automatically goes to his hair. “That’s…debatable. But thank you.”

“Your mother’s in prison and I know that you’re in pieces inside, but here you are making jokes to try and make _me_ feel better. You’re wonderful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, you know.”

He says nothing, so I nudge him. “Hey, you’re no more responsible for your mother’s actions any more than I’m responsible for my moth―” I stop short, realizing that what I was about to say is complete bullshit considering that the only reason there’s footage of my mother attacking the man she killed was because she was trying to get the evidence that―

“Hey,” he gives me a shake, pulling me out of my downward spiral. “None, of that.” He says firmly.

I heave a heavy sigh. “We’re as bad as each other.”

“Tell you what; I’ll keep you in line, if you do the same for me.”

“Deal.” I hold out my pinky.

He snorts. “You’re the only grown man I know that still makes pinky promises” he says, hooking his little finger around mine.

“I reserve them for the people I love.”

He gives me a tender look.

“So shut up and be flattered.”

He rolls his eyes.

We lay quietly for a few moments, the tips of my fingers trailing lazily up and down his arm.

“Will…” he says quietly.

“Hmm?”

“How are you doing?”

I contemplate playing it light and breezy but I just don’t have the energy, not when I’m this worried. “I don’t know. Not great, I guess.”

“You’re worried about her.”

“Of course.”

“She’s tough, Will. I’ve never met anyone like her.”

I swallow hard. “Yeah, she is. My little brother, my sisters…” I shake my head. “They’re not. They’re kids and they didn’t even get to say goodbye to her.”

I feel his shoulders tense and he practically curls against me. “ _Jesus_ ,” he whispers. “I didn’t even think of them―my _mother_ sure as hell didn’t.”

“I’m sure she’d just say something about Bernardi’s kid to justify it.” I bite out, and then close my eyes tight, cringing. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, you’re right.”

“No, I can’t be talking about her like that.”

He lifts his head, looking at me. “And why is that?”

“Because she’s your mother, Sonny, and at some point you’re going to have to forgive―”

“The hell I do.” He lays his head back down on my chest so that he won’t have to hold my gaze. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get over her appointing herself judge and jury.”

“Yes, you will.”

“Oh you think so?” He bites out.

“Sonny, take a look at all the crazy crap my mom has pulled. I have never been so angry, so _furious_ at anyone as I have at my mother over the years. And yet here I am, scared to death at the thought of her all alone…just…”

I don’t realize that I’m on the verge of losing it until his hand is touching my cheek, with worried brown eyes watching me as he tries to calm me down. “Hey, hey easy…it’s okay.”

I close my eyes, and then nod my head. “Yeah, yeah it’s going to be fine. You’re dad’s going to help and everything will be fine.”

The sound of Ari crying draws our attention, and we’re quiet as we look at the bedroom door.

“Should we―?” Sonny begins, but I shake my head.

“No, Gabi’s…” I pause when I hear Ari quiet down. “Gabi’s got her. Night off, remember?”

He goes slack against me, and I feel a little displaced, what with our shift from serious to playful to serious again. He must feel the same way because his hand has snuck up, under my vest to play with hair on my chest. He always does that when he’s over thinking.

“Want to play a game?” I ask.

He looks up at me. “Does it involve moving?”

“Nope.”

“Sure.”

“It’s called the _what if_ game.”

“What if…things were different?”

“Pretty much.”

He repositions himself against me for a second, and I can tell just from the way he feels in my arms that he’s exhausted. “You start” he says.

“Okay, so…what if we met under completely different circumstances.”

“Elaborate please.”

“Say I never left Switzerland, and you just happened to be there during your travels…”

“Oh, okay,” he says, a small smile pulling at his lips as he warms o the idea.

“And you just happen to see me sitting alone at a local gay bar. What would you do?”

He sputters. “Like you’d be alone.”             

“Hey, before you were in my periphery and during those few times I went to the Spot? Let’s just say guys weren’t exactly lining up for me.”

“Let’s just say I know for a fact that isn’t true.”

“What do you mean?”

He bites his lip. “I may have seen you there a few times…”

I’m genuinely surprised, not to mention confused. “Why didn’t you come over and say hi?”

“Because you were learning how to flirt and it was adorable.”

Heat slams into my cheeks. “Oh God,” I mutter.

“Not to mention that anytime a guy did flirt with you I got insanely jealous. That’s why we couldn’t hang out there.”

“But that’s the thing, nobody _did_ flirt with me.”

He shakes his head, grinning. “Yes they did, Will. You were just too new―too naïve to see it.” His finger traces an invisible pattern on my chest. “In fact I think it’s the only time I was glad that Neil was at your side, because he would constantly stare down the pushier, more forward guys…”

“There was never―”

“Trust me, Will.”

“Well how come I never saw it?”

“You didn’t see it because you have no idea _how_ gorgeous you are. I mean there’s good looking, there’s handsome, and then there’s it-physically-hurts-to-look-at-you beautiful.”

“Oh shut up,” I mutter, looking away from him.

“ _You_ shut up,” he chuckles, enjoying my stupid bashfulness.

I frown at him. “I don’t know why you say that stuff.”

“I say it because I look at you and something thumps inside of me and it just pops out of my mouth, like how all the most honest things do.”

I don’t really know what to say about that, so I leave it be. “I wish you had hung out with me there. I always felt so nervous and out of place. You always made me feel like I fit somehow.”

“I couldn’t.” He shrugs. “Sometimes it was hard to just be your friend.”

I trail my hand softly up his back. “I’m more than your friend now.”

He smiles smugly, and it’s funny as hell. “True.”

“So come on, back to the game. You see me sitting alone in a bar, what do you do?”

“This is dumb,” he grins, suddenly shy.

“No, come on, I want to know. We never really did the flirty thing; we just went straight into dating and falling in love.” I get an idea. “Here, I’ll turn around…”

“Will…” he gripes, but he’s grinning as I roll away.

I direct my words over my shoulder. “So here I am, apparently oblivious to the hundreds of guys hitting on me and waiting for my very own Romeo―”

“You are such a dweeb.”

“―my very own Romeo to sweep me off my feet.”

I hear him sigh behind me, and the backs of his knuckles brush my spine. “If it helps,” I whisper over my shoulder, “I’m already completely in love with you. Now hit on me.”

I hear him sigh again, but there’s a hint of amusement in the soft sound, and then he clears his throat. “Hi, is anyone sitting here?”

I look over my shoulder and give him a look of mock surprise; he snorts loudly and turns so that half of his face is hidden in a pillow. I can’t help but smile. “Oh, hi there. No, go ahead; seat’s free.”

“Um,” he begins, his voice wavering with impending laughter. “My name’s Sonny.”

I offer him my hand, and with a roll of his eyes he takes it. “I’m Will, that’s kind of a unique name you’ve got.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“You got a sister names Cher?”

“No, a couple of brothers, but they all have normal names. I do too, actually. It’s Jackson, but my friends call me Sonny.”

“Your friends and people you speak to in bars…”

“I suppose so. What are you drinking?”

“Beer.”

He gives me a knowing look. “You drink those gross fruity things.”

“Yes, but fictional Switzerland Sonny doesn’t know that and I’m trying to make a good impression. Now get back into character.” I order him.

“Fine,” he chuckles. “I just bought super butch Switzerland Will a beer.”

“Thanks, man. So, Sonny…come here often?”

“Did you seriously just say that?” He laughs.

“Hey, shut up.” I poke him. “Okay fine, ball’s in your court, you’re picking me up, remember?”

He clears his throat. “So are you here with anyone, Will?”

“How is that any different from what I just said?!”

“Um, excuse me, but I was talking to Switzerland Will.”

I huff. “No, no I’m just chillin’ on my own.”

“You must get hit on a lot, I’m guessing.”

“Well I didn’t think so but apparently I’m naïve and as pure as the driven snow.”

“Okay if you don’t want to play along―”

I reach out and grab his arm when he starts to roll away. “Alright, alright, sorry. Um…no, no I don’t get hit on that often.”

“Well that’s a goddamn crime.”

I lift an eyebrow at him. “ _Nice_.”

He smirks. “I know.”

“I think at this point I would be at least somewhat wooed. What’s next? Asking me to dance?”

“You hate to dance.”

“That’s because Salem Will sucks at dancing, but _Switzerland_ Will….now he’s kind of a badass.”

“Oh okay, sure.”

“I don’t think I care for your tone, mister.”

“You know what that’s called?”

“What?”

“Tough luck.”

“Jerk.”

“It’s your turn” he says, nudging me and then rolling over to face away from me. “Put your moves on me, hot stuff.”

“Hot stuff?”

“You’re hot, get over it. Now come on, flirt with me.”

I clear my throat. “Okay, so…you’re at the same bar but I’m approaching you this time.”

“Cool, go for it.”

“So…uh, hey, h-hi there.”

“Did you seriously just stammer? Oh my God that’s cute.”

“Hey,” I nudge him in the back. “Don’t make fun.”

“It’s hypothetical and you’re still nervous, how do I _not_ find that adorable?”

“I want a do-over.”

He snickers. “Fine, but you’ll notice I didn’t need one.”

“Shut up.” I clear my throat loudly and then slowly let out a deep breath. I poke him again when I see his shoulders start to shake.  “Hi, my name’s Sonny, can I―wait, _shit_! Lemme start over…”

“Did you just get your own _name_ wrong?” he laughs. Dick.

“Quit it, I’m just warming up.”

“No wonder you never got any action at the Spot, _geez_.”

I glare at the back of his head, and then gripping his shoulder I pull him towards me so his back is flat against the mattress. In one quick move I climb over him, straddling him. I lean down with my palms flat either side of his shoulders, and let my voice drop to something deeper, seductive.

“I’m Will, and it’s really important that you tell me your name.”

He blinks at me in surprise. He starts to grin, and then wets his lips. “And why’s that?” He asks with a defiant lift of his chin.

“So I know what I’ll be screaming out later.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence between us where he just stares at me, and for a second I think I’ve got him, but then his snort of amusement turns into a full-on belly laugh. I purse my lips together in annoyance as he covers his face with his hands and laughs loud enough to probably confuse the hell out of Gabi.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he says breathlessly.

I sit up slightly, still straddling him, but I cross my arms. “I guess I’m just not sexy.” And I’m not going to lie, I’m kind of disappointed.

“Aw, Will, no. Honey, you’re very sexy.”

I drop my hands to fiddle with the waistband of his boxers. I lift one shoulder in a shrug, fully aware that I’m sulking. “It’s cool. I just have no game is all. I’m gameless.”

He sits up, and I find myself more or less sitting in his lap as he circles his arms around me. “You have game, you have lots of game. It’s just…it’s a different sort of game. You have _Special_ game.”

“That’s just patronizing.”

“No it’s not. Take tonight,” he says, giving me a gentle squeeze and pressing a quick kiss to my chest. “How you got me to laugh after what went down today is beyond me.” He ducks his head to catch my gaze. “I’m serious; I mean…I should be trying to cheer _you_ up and instead here you are…just being your…selfless, thoughtful self…”

“Oh shush.” I mutter.

“I mean it, Will. You are so incredible…” He smothers a grin. “Even if you have no idea how to flirt” he says with a tender look in his eyes and a soft laugh.

I can’t keep the pleased grin from spreading across my lips. I bite my lip, shivering slightly when one hand trails up my spine, and the other gropes my ass.

“You know, I kind of like this…” He murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

“Me too.” I whisper.

I hunch my shoulders, and with both hands I cup his face and dip down for a kiss. He hikes me further into his lap, and grins into the kiss when I let out a quiet gasp. His hand, burning hot at the back of my neck pins me into this kiss that grows more intense by the second. Without even realizing what I’m doing, I begin to rock in his lap ever so slightly.

He pulls away from this kiss with a hiss. “ _Yes_.”

“Do you think…?” I say against his lips, unable to complete a full sentence without giving into the temptation to kiss him one more time. “Do you think if we’re really quiet…?”

“I think it’s worth a try.”

“And if we make noise?”

“Then we make love on the floor, in your car…I don’t care.”

And that’s how we came to where we are now. Sonny, sitting up against the headboard with me in his lap, rising and falling with the help of his firm hands on my hips and his face pressed against my chest. I grip the back of his head, my hand fisting in his hair as I grip the headboard and move as quietly as I can.

I feel his hot breath panting against my chest, and gasp when his teeth graze my nipple. I feel his lips pull into a smirk a second before they close around nipple and suck hard. I remember to close my mouth just before I grunt in surprise.

“God, Sonny…”

I hear him growl and then suddenly I’m on my back, the breath rushing out of my lungs as he thrusts hard into me. Our bodies barely separate and we’re slick with sweat, but there’s no stopping this landslide. He buries his face against my neck, gripping the back of my shoulder hard enough to leave bruises as he comes. His hand slides between our bodies and grips me, barely stroking me before I arch up into his hand, trying to not cry out.

I don’t know if it was that intense because it’s been a while, or if it was just because…because it’s that _good_ between us, but I don’t think it matters. He lays on me completely slack, and I haven’t the energy to move an inch so I stay this way for a good while, but eventually he moves and we clean up a little before climbing back into bed.

We lay wound up in each other, tired but not quite near sleep yet, and his hand is running through my hair which feels all kinds of amazing and soothing. I’m just about drifting off when he says…

“So what if after all your lame pick-up lines, I told Switzerland Will that I love him?”

I turn my head slightly, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “He’d be doing back flips.”

“Really? Backflips?”

“Yes.”

“See?” He murmurs into my hair. “That’s mad game right there.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
